Shivers
by makolane
Summary: **SLASH** (Clark/Lex) A pre-Jitters preview fic. How many lives does the black cat have?


  
Category: SLASH! Clark/Lex

*_SPOILERS_*: For the "Jitters" preview. 

Rating: PG-13

  
Disclaimer: They belong to Alfred Gough and a whole bunch of other folks. Lucky them. 

Summary: A teeny bit of fluff based on the "Jitters" preview. I couldn't resist. No redeeming value claimed. 

SHIVERS by mako

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"CLARK!" 

It was the last word Lex Luthor was ever going to say. 

Somehow, it wasn't as awful as he might have imagined. 

The word that was -- the situation itself wasn't particularly attractive. In fact, it was downright horrifying as Lex's palms burned against the metal girders that kept him clinging to life. A shiver of bending steel jerked through his arms, which were starting to feel as though they were being torn from their sockets, one centimeter at a time. 

"Lex!" Clark's panicked cry echoed off the plant's walls. "Hold on!" 

Right. As if he had a choice. "Claaark!" More of whine now and he really thought his arms were going to rip off in messy chunks of lavender covered flesh. 

Son of a ... 

Lex stretched back to watch as the younger man crawled toward him on all fours, desperation etched into his features. Clark looked awful -- ashen, sick and this close to dead, but he kept going, heedless of the danger. 

A part of Lex's brain rebelled at the sight. Let me go, Clark, he thought, edging toward the dark pit that was hysteria. It's okay. You saved me once before, twice is one time too many. 

Save yourself. Just let me go. 

Luckily, Clark didn't hear any such traitorous thoughts. He inched to the end of the tipping bridge and grabbed at Lex's wrist with an iron grip. Searing pain, and Lex scrabbled toward the touch but his legs found no purchase against the weightless air. They churned uselessly beneath him and he slipped further down the unforgiving metal to where two hundred feet below ... death waited. 

Lex tried to turn his head. Strained to catch a glimpse of Clark's face before he fell. If he were granted only one more sight in life, that was the one he wanted -- the one he didn't know if he could die without, let alone live without. 

But death wasn't in the cards just yet. A brutal, heart-stopping pull toward the ceiling and his entire body wrenched upwards to where he tumbled onto the cold metal landing, gasping and spent. 

He lives. Again. 

Lex fought against the urge to vomit and the world swam in his vision -- except for the achingly vivid sight of Clark stretched out beside him, unmoving, blue eyes darting disturbingly beneath half-closed lids. He was unconscious and his normally healthy skin was a strange greenish tint -- the color of dying corn. 

Terrified, Lex ran shaking hands over Clark's neck and chest, searching for a heartbeat. 

He found none. 

No. Please. He'sdeadhe'sdeadhe'dead ... 

Another wrenching tear of metal and Lex's survival instinct flared to life. He rose on shaking legs, shoved his arms beneath Clark's and began to drag him, an inch at a time over what was left of the catwalk, to the door where freedom -- and life -- waited. 

Unfortunately, Clark's six feet four of dead weight wasn't cooperating and the ground grew more unstable by the second. The sound of breaking metal shrieked from far away and Lex knew the race against death had begun. 

"Listen up, Clark," Lex grunted as he heaved. "You're going to live whether you want to or not. Luthors don't take 'no' for an answer and you're not going to be the first to get away with it. So move it or lose it, pal." 

No answer and the cracked framework wobbled like a broken toy. Lex grabbed a side railing out of fear, then shook it off before continuing their slow march toward safety. "Playing hard to get, huh?" Lex's breath rattled painfully in his chest. "Fine. Wait till you want me to do something for you, buddy. You're gonna be waiting days, no, weeks." 

Clark's leg slipped off the side and he moaned. 

Another yank to balance the body in his arms and Lex blinked sweat from his eyes. "Okay. Maybe not weeks, hell, not even days. An hour at the most. Of course, that depends on what you want." 

Hoarsely, and the world continued to tilt sickeningly to one side. Lex ignored the stitch in his ribs and concentrated instead on the precious life in his arms. "I mean," he rasped, every muscle in his body protesting loudly. "If you want something less strenuous than yanking my ass out of the grave and getting it into someplace more comfortable such as a warm bed or somewhere like that, then you might not have to wait at all." 

His balance failed. Lex slipped on a loose girder but continued to pull, using his falling body weight to gain yet another inch. He landed hard on his spine but he bit down the pain and kept moving ... and talking. 

"Come on, Clark. I promise you, the second we get off this damn thing and back into the house, I'm going to tuck you into the warmest one-hundred-percent cotton sheets you've ever felt. I'll even make some melted chocolate or cocoa or whatever that crap is and feed it to you one spoonful at a time," he wheezed. "Then I'll climb in next to you -- just for body heat purposes, mind you." 

He looked down and saw Clark's eyes, suddenly wide open with what could only have been surprise. "So, how about it?" Lex asked as the crashing grew louder, girder after girder twisting toward the ground. "Wanna go to bed with me?" 

"Okay," replied Clark weakly before tottering to his feet and shoving Lex through the doorway, ten yards beyond the shattering ledge, with a burst of energy that was nothing short of amazing. 

A bulldozer couldn't have knocked the air out of Lex more efficiently. He gulped, then coughed, then cringed as the entire Level Three structure collapsed in front of them, including the part where he and Clark were struggling to escape mere seconds before. 

How many lives did the black cat have again? 

Lex lay back and closed his eyes. Tried to will his heart to slow down and almost had it within a sane range when something warm and soft and wonderful pressed against his lips. 

Lex's eyes flew open and he saw a familiar sight. 

Clark, leaning over him, his hair damp -- looking more beautiful than any angel had a right to. "Just making sure you were alive," he said, with an oddly shy grin. 

Lex shivered and reached up, pulling Clark to him. "Oh, I'm alive," he replied before returning the kiss. "Although the word hardly does it justice." 

A grin. "So, does that invite still stand?" 

Shy voice, lust-filled eyes and Lex wondered if maybe he -had- died and gone to a Heaven that deserved much better than a rogue like himself. 

Much, much better. "Yes. Always." 

"Good." More kisses then and the world could collapse into darkness as far as Lex Luthor was concerned so long as Clark was always ... 

The last thing on his lips. 

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End file.
